


Teenage Dirtbag

by thorkiship18



Series: One-Shots [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bonding, Dean Flirts, First Dates, First Kiss, Gym Teacher Dean, M/M, Sam Has Self-Esteem Issues, Swesson, Talking, Teacher Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorkiship18/pseuds/thorkiship18
Summary: The new gym teacher is hot as Hell, and seems to like Sam a whole lot.





	Teenage Dirtbag

**Author's Note:**

> I love having Dean/Jensen as the gym teacher. (Lol)

The news came a whole day before Dean Smith arrived.

Sam was nervous; the last time a new teacher was here, he ended up chasing him away with his awkwardness. It was a nightmare. The students here are more outgoing than he his! Isn't that just awful!? He used to be so popular in his own high school. What happened? Now, he's this meek guy who is whispered about by his colleagues. 

The day Dean Smith came to Lawrence High, Dam thought he'd break. That guy was clearly too hot to teach here! The female students swooned, and so did the majority of the staff. Sam, having been attracted to other mean since a teenager, was among those that fell for Mr. Smith, yet he pushed it down. There was no reason for him to even like Sam.

****

Sam sits behind his desk, taking out a brown paper bag. It's lunchtime, and all of the students and other teachers are in the lunchroom eating. But not Sam. He doesn't fit in, as strange as it sounds. Not with the students, not with anyone anymore. He was on top of the world in his youth. He charmed everyone, but now he's 33 years old, and eating alone. Some life.

Eventually, his attention is drawn to the door. Someone's there, knocking on the frame. It's Dean Smith! Sam nearly chokes on his food, beckoning him to come all the way in. The man looks good with his white polo and red shorts. He definitely looks the part, but so far Sam has heard that he doesn't quite act his age. He's more of a teenager than the actual teenagers! Mr. Smith comes in with his own paper bag.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," He starts. "But do you know which way the cafeteria is? I got a little lost..."

Sam is confused. The cafeteria is right by the front doors, how could you miss it?

"Just, uh, it's right next to the entrance."

Mr. Smith chuckles. "Ah. Right. That must be the place. Thanks."

"Mhm. No problem."

"Okay, so another question. Do you mind if I eat with you?"

Sam's breathing stills, and time seems to stop for a moment. Did the hot new guy really ask to sit and eat lunch with him? The freak? Whatever floats his boat. Sam points to a lone chair in the corner of the room, and goes back to his turkey sandwich. He thought Dean would take the chair to another desk and eat, but no.

He takes the chair, and scoots up until he's sitting on the opposite side of Sam's desk. He grins, dropping his bag onto the wood surface. This is...new. Sam's heart skips several beats. They sit in silence, whether it's comfortable for Dean or not, Sam doesn't know. He doesn't ask, he's too afraid to ask him anything.

"Do you mind if I ask you another question?" Dean ask suddenly.

"Hmm? Oh, no--not at all." Sam mutters. "Ask away. I'm an open book. You know, unless the book is sealed shut by some kind of tie or something, and...I'll shut up."

Dean laughs aloud, throwing his head back. "You are something else. I was gonna ask why you're eating alone."

"Oh...well...I guess because I'm just...me. I'm not much."

Dean leans into the desk, still eating. "Are you kidding me? Dude, you're fucking hilarious! I could honestly listen to you talk for hours. You deserve to have groups of people surrounding you trying to be your friend."

Sam ends up laughing a bit. It's surprising. "Yeah, maybe in high school. I'm getting too old now, and...I don't know, things that used to be cool back then aren't cool now. No one wants to hang out with me, and that's okay. I'm so used to it. I don't mind being alone."

He feels Dean's hand drape over his. Sam dresses, but looks up into the other teacher's beautiful eyes, noticing for the first time today that Dean has freckles. That's pretty cute.

"You don't have to be alone," says Dean. "Ever. Let me take you out to drinks tonight downtown. I hit up the bar yesterday, and it was pretty nice. Go out with me."

"I--I can't!" Sam begins, rambling. "I have papers to grade, and homework to go over--not to mention that I have two dogs at home that I take care of. I suppose my best friend could look after them, but I don't know. They get really--"

"Tonight. 7 o'clock." Dean writes his number down on Sam's palm as the bell rings. He collects his garbage, and heads for the door. He turns around with a smirk. "I'll be waiting, Mr. Wesson."

And then he's gone, leaving Sam alone in his classroom. He stares down at the digits on his palm, then closes his fist.

Well...this is what he's wanted right?

****

"So, I said to him, 'Who are you, the fucking Pope?'"

Sam crackles at Dean's horrible, but still funny joke. He followed through with the drinks offer from him earlier. Now, he's here in this lovely bar with an equally lovely gentleman. Well, gentleman is a selective term. Yes, he held his seat out for Sam, and yes, he coincidentally ordered his favorite drink for him, but Dean's jokes are juvenile in nature. It's perfect.

"God, I needed this..." Sam hums, taking another drink. "You're so fun. I bet you were a blast in high school."

Dean takes a long pull on his beer. "Nah. I mean, I don't know. If I was, no one seemed to care. I was that goofy guy in school, but I didn't have friends. I wasn't popular like this one guy. He had so many friends. His smile could light up the room, and his light was just like magic. When he looked at me, I swore I saw the sun. He was a great guy. Guess what his name was."

"What was it?"

"Sam." Dean glances at him with a smile. He looks so young. "His name was Sam Wesson."

It all clicks just then. Dean Smith. The name was familiar from the start. They've met before in high school. While Sam was somehow the social butterfly, Dean was the wallflower. Sam drinks on the last of his drink, trying to make sense on how the strange guy back then turned into the hottest man alive today. Holy Shit, he's so attractive! 

"I can't believe it." Sam whispers. "Dean Freaking Smith! Wow. Time flies."

"Sure does. I was wondering when you'd recognize me. Like what you see?"

It has to be the alcohol in his system for him to say what he's about to say next.

"As a matter of fact, I do. I really do."

Dean quirks up his eyebrow. "Really? My house is nearby. What do you say we go back and...'reminisce' on the good old times."

****

**Two Months Later...**

"Good Morning, guys!" Sam huffs, dropping his satchel and coffee mug by his desk. "Sorry I was late, I ran into a little bump in the road."

"You mean Mr. Smith, don't you, Mr. Wesson."

Several students giggle, and laugh amongst themselves. Sam blushes, not quite sure how to handle the situation. They may be right, but that doesn't mean they can shamelessly say what they will of it. Sam puts his hands on his hips.

"I have no idea what you're talking about..."

"Dude, it's obvious you guys are...you know." A student, Meg, giggles.

"Yeah," Gabriel snorts. "The sex must be amazing."

"Okay, okay," Sam laughs, trying to calm down his class. He starts writing on the chalkboard. "Just--let's go back where we left off yesterday. Turn to page..."

He cuts himself off short when he looks to his right at the closed door. There's Dean, looking in on at Sam. He starts making funny faces, but then he begins making crude, lewd gestures like him simulating giving Sam a blow job. The students laugh once more, and Sam rolls his eyes, shooting his boyfriend/co-worker away from his class.

"Enough, guys, come on. Get serious. Page 44. Let's go."

_Stupid Dean. I love you._


End file.
